Suddenly, in an Afternoon

There are no singular moments
I cannot isolate one from the rest
Tucking it away; to save until tomorrow
Nor can I preserve them; though with ink I might try
Life is the master of re-arranging
Moments; folding them, one over another
Until they become days and years
And suddenly here I am in an afternoon in June
Where the wind drops in a sudden lull
And my heart is achingly full
Of the memory of moments
… With you

J~